


Moonlight Serenade

by felisblanco



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-08-22
Updated: 2004-08-22
Packaged: 2018-10-19 16:06:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10643325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/felisblanco/pseuds/felisblanco
Summary: Two vampires on a romantic walk in a cemetary. This is just really silly crack fic. I was very tired, possibly drunk. I'm so sorry.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I came home really tired and had planned to go right to sleep but of course I didn't. Instead I sat down and wrote this fic, which first line has been scratching at my brain all day. This is very silly, so silly I guess you would call it a badfic. Also un beta'd because I'm just being a very silly person with all this silliness and it doesn't deserve a beta. Hope someone can appreciate its utter silliness.

So one day when Spike and Angel were skipping through the cemetery, hand in hand, happy as larks, Spike suddenly stopped and looked over at the big broody caveman who hadn’t realised that he was now skipping by himself, which of course looked very stupid and not as romantic as two people...erm...vampires skipping because that’s just classic and what two people...erm... vampires in love haven’t done that?

Anyway he stood there watching Angel do a little dance around the tombstones and suddenly wandered why they always went on dates in all these dark and gloomy places and never anywhere pretty. Well, all right it was pretty here with the nice little graves and the moon shining above and of course there were flowers and trees and the occasional statue of an angel. But somehow he longed for the romance of candles and the company of other people... erm... vampires in love like them so he could show off his big burly man...pire who finally seemed to realise there was no one holding his hand anymore and came to a halt, looking back for his tiny little blond lover.

“You stopped.” He said, looking down at his big meaty hand that suddenly seemed so empty and useless without the smaller slender one to hold and caress and tickle in that special ‘I want to fuck you’ way. “We’re not skipping anymore?”

That saddened him because he really liked skipping. It was fun and also very good exercise and even if he was immortal he had this tendency to put on weight if he drank a bit too much of the nice otter-spiced blood W&H brought in for them especially from Norway. Not his fault it tasted so good, almost as good as that Chihuahua he once ate during his days as a longhaired Manilov loving bum. Not that he had meant to eat it, actually he’d just thought it was a rat when it came around the corner and he’d pounced on it because that’s what he did those days. Anyway, it had tasted a little like sherry if he remembered that taste correctly and he’d been very pleasantly surprised. Not quite as surprised as the lady who held on to the other end of the leash though. She had been really surprised. He still had a dent in his head from her handbag.

Spike couldn’t stand to see his big puppy looking so forlorn so he walked over and gave him a nice little kiss on the chin – he didn’t really reach much further without standing on his toes and well, he couldn’t always be bothered, after all Angel should realise they were equals and stoop down for him once in a while – before tilting his head and giving him his very best pout.

“We always go to these dark and gloomy places and never anywhere pretty.”

“But it’s pretty here with the nice little graves and the moon shining above and of course there are flowers and trees and the occasional statue of an angel.”

“Yes, I know. But I want candles and wine and I want other people around so I can show you off and let everyone know that you’re my man... erm... vampire and let them all be envious and want to kill me for having you. Well, not really kill me,” (he knew vampires had this tendency to take metaphors about killing and blood very seriously and saying things like this could make Angel go grrrr and start biting people), “but you know, they would be very, very jealous.”

“But I thought you liked it dark and gloomy with the nice little graves and the moon shining…”

“Yes, yes, we said all that, but don’t you ever want something different? Like… we could go out for dinner in a nice restaurant…” seeing Angel’s face he sighed and pouted some more, “… but of course you don’t eat. You really should try it, you know. Might fill up your tummy a bit and then you might not drink just as much of that…”

Too late he remembered how sensitive Angel was about that whole weight issue and he swore under his non-existent breath (well, nonexistent unless he was aroused or sleeping or just forgot that he wasn’t a vampire which happened quite often and he even sometimes spooked himself when he walked up to a mirror and there was nothing there, which was a real pisser because no matter how many pictures he had Angel take of him he still would have liked to see face to face how pretty he was) as Angel stalked away, obviously very hurt.

Spike ran after him, singing him his apologies with self made lyrics to this Cat Stevens song he never could remember the actual lyrics to and therefore used it as background anytime he wanted to sing instead of talk. As always his pretty singing soon had Angel calmed down but he was still very hurt and kept poking his stomach when he thought Spike wasn’t looking. Damn otter.

Spike rolled his eyes and decided that Angel needed some more reassurance so he pounced on him, threw him to the ground and tickled his tummy until the Big Brood was laughing so much he would have wet his pants if he still peed. Which of course he didn’t being vampire and all. Heaving for air (Angel forgot sometimes too that he didn’t need to breath, especially when Spike pushed him under water in the tub to give him blowjobs and so he came up spurting water, leaving wet puddles all over the floor, which can be very dangerous as he himself proved right when he once slipped while running naked after Spike and fell right on his tushy and had to sleep on his stomach for three nights) Angel looked lovingly up at his lovely lover who he loved so very much and drew him down for a wet sloppy kiss. Their slurping could be heard all over the cemetery and if Wes had been anywhere near he probably would have thought it was a slurp demon, but luckily he was otherwise occupied since tonight was crochet night and he was working on such a lovely shawl which he planned to send his mother for her birthday, although knowing his parents, it probably would end up as a bondage kit for his father. Which is why he was making it in black.

Finally they parted and as they stood up Angel took Spike’s hand and gave it a light squeeze and then that special ‘I want to fuck you’ tickle.

“If you want dinner, we can have dinner. And candle lights and flowers and waiters who play the violin. But you have to promise me one thing.”

“Anything, my sweetest Sire. Whatever you want.”

“Well, I would like you to wear those leather pants I bought you and the see-through shirt and please, can you put on some eyeliner for me?” Angel was really envious of Spike’s Billy Idol period because he was a big sucker for eyeliner but he could never wear any, or even the leather pants, because then everyone thought he was evil and homicidal and it was all very frustrating. But Spike could show up looking like a racoon – if a racoon had really great fashion sense – and everyone would just ooo and aaaa and no one though he was evil. Except that guy in the copy room but he thought everyone was evil and that the moon was made of cheese. It was all very sad but people just tended to ignore him and pretend there were no slices of Cheddar on his head.

Spike smirked in a very Billy Idol way, not in a stupid way at all, and raised his eyebrow the way Angel had been practising to do for many years now and actually thought he could do, but that was just because he could obviously not see himself in the mirror and no one had the heart to tell him he just looked like he was trying to chase a fly away from his forehead by winking at it.

“I guess I could do that. But then I get to choose the place.” Smiling at each other they resumed their happy skipping in the dark and gloomy cemetery, only interrupted by the occasional kiss amongst the nice little graves and the moon shining above and of course the flowers and trees and the occasional statue of an angel.

fin

I'm going to regret this in the morning.


End file.
